


Things There Might Be Pictures Of

by andyouknowitis



Series: Things There Might Be Pictures Of [10]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: All The Love, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Much Married, Styles-Tomlinsons, dads being dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andyouknowitis/pseuds/andyouknowitis
Summary: May 17th 2024George Styles-Tomlinson is nine months and three quarters. And he knows you've definitely got to take a run at it.Harry sighed in pleasure as he licked his thumb, sweeping up the last of the gravy on his plate. “Mmmm. Why does that always taste so good still?”Louis bit into his one of his own chips idly, enjoying the satisfied gleam in Harry's eyes. “Couldn't say love. Must just be the way I make 'em.” He grinned, holding out another to Harry's lips with a click of his tongue. “Guess I just know how to keep a northern boy satisfied.”Harry nudged his calf with a sock clad toe under the table, mumbling through a mouthful of potato. “Yeah, that's us. Show us some gravy and we're easy pleased.”Louis laughed as he returned the nudge. “So attractive with your mouth full.”Harry smirked. “Later.”





	

_May 17_ _th_ _2024_

 It was an ordinary Monday. Inasmuch as a Monday with a kid under one could be.

 “Harry, gate!”

 “Huh, what?”

 Louis shook his head exasperatedly as he gestured with his free hand, the other gripping a spatula. “Baby! He's right behind you.”

 Harry whirled around just as the gate sensors slipped closed just in time. “Shit! He was on the playmat two seconds ago?”

George Shelley Styles-Tomlinson, age nine months and three quarters, knelt at the bars of said gate, teeth bared in a gummy smile, looking for all the world like the little monkey he was apt to act like at times. That he happened to be wearing a well loved monkey onesie along with requisite ears, to reiterate this fact, was neither here nor there.

Harry automatically lifted the ever present camera slung around his neck to snap a couple of pictures before George lost interest and crawled away.

“He's doing that on purpose, you know..” Louis spoke over his shoulder as he continued to measure out the stock for the gravy that Harry was craving for dinner lately.

“Mmmm?” Harry looked up from where he was fiddling with the gate sensor controls, one eye on George, who had returned to the mat and was playing with his blocks, looking for all the world like he'd never moved from that same spot.

“Le kiddo of ours. Fastest crawler north of London?” Louis smiled because he could. “Our child. Is mocking you.”

“Yeah.” Harry paused. “Wait..how-I mean what?”

Louis shook his head as he placed the saucepan aside, glancing at the chips crisping in the eye level oven. “The more he sees you trailing after him with the camera, the more he pretends like he doesn't know just what you want him to do.”

Harry's brow furrowed in consternation as his hand crept protectively to the camera lying against his chest. “No, he doesn't. I've taken loads of pictures of him.”

“Yes, he does,” Louis countered, doing little to keep the small grin from forming on his face. “He did it earlier when you were trying to get him doing the knee spin thing he does on the corners. Let you take fifty odd pictures of him in the hallway, and then when you answered that call, he went and spun away. Tried to get his little mitts on that Brit sitting on the second shelf on the bookcase in the foyer, which I think we're going have to move now by the way, because he's all but pulling himself up on it now.”

Harry glanced back at George, who was now gleefully knocking his stack of three blocks down with a flourish. “I was on that call less than a minute. He was still where I left him when I turned back around.”

Louis laughed softly. “Yeah, the little sneak. I assure you, he moved. I could see him through the archway. Right now he loves neither cameras nor gates, I reckon.”

Harry finally looked over at Louis, face mock stern. “Hey now, that's our baby you're throwing sneak accusations at.”

Louis laughed outright. “Yeah, _our_ baby.”

Harry inclined his head and considered this for a moment, before a grin of his own crept through. “Fair point.”

Louis moved from his stance beside the oven to stand near his husband. They both watched as George knocked down the blocks again and then decided to shuffle over and pull himself up on the edge of the table, where the remote made short work of finding its way into his mouth.

Louis shook his head in barely contained amusement as Harry swiftly hopped over the offending gate to baby wrangle, and headed back to the cooker with a murmur of “Curious George indeed.”

*

Harry sighed in pleasure as he licked his thumb, sweeping up the last of the gravy on his plate. “Mmmm. Why does that always taste so good still?”

Louis bit into his one of his own chips idly, enjoying the satisfied gleam in Harry's eyes. “Couldn't say love. Must just be the way I make 'em.” He grinned, holding out another to Harry's lips with a click of his tongue. “Guess I just know how to keep a northern boy satisfied.”

Harry nudged his calf with a sock clad toe under the table, mumbling through a mouthful of potato. “Yeah, that's us. Show us some gravy and we're easy pleased.”

Louis laughed as he returned the nudge. “So attractive with your mouth full.”

Harry smirked. “Later.”

“Da!” Both snapped out of their reverie as George banged his plastic baby spork on the table of his high chair. Not that he used it just yet. He preferred brandishing it in his hand like he was now, looking for all the world like some kind of miniature Poseidon with a tiny trident trapped in his grip. The effect was somewhat diminished by the gravy laced around his mouth.

Louis laughed on a huff of breath as a Harry snapped a picture to capture said little face. “Yes, little Lord of everything we do these days. Your Da's are both here, you tiny attention seeker. You like the chips?”

“Da!”

Louis grinned. “Okay, good to know.”

Harry shook his head as he wiped the bits of potato George was gleefully mashing in a small fist. “I think he just sucked the gravy right off the one you cut up and the rest is all over him.” He looked up with an eyebrow. “And don't say it.”

Louis stacked their plates together with a smirk and headed for the dishwasher. “Can't think what you mean.”

Harry's lips twitched in amusement as he hauled George out of the high chair and handed the spork and cloth over to Louis as he tickled George where he had him sat on his hip. “Bathtime for you bubba.”

“Ba!” George intoned gleefully.

Louis smoothed a thumb over the smudge of gravy on George's cheek. “Grubby one.” He glanced up at Harry. “Be up in a minute, yeah?”

Harry pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I'll leave his hair for you.”

Louis watched as they left the room and, not for the first time, wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.

*

They'd both learned from experience that an excess of clothes plus squirmy baby who loved the water wasn't a good mix, so Louis was unsurprised to find Harry kneeling at the cushioned bath side in the en suite off George's room, in just his boxers and a blue singlet.

George was splashing, as predicted, from the safety of his inflatable duck bath, one they'd installed temporarily in the bathtub after he'd begun pulling himself up on everything. Harry splashed back with a grin, before running a teal coloured flannel across soft baby shoulders and arms. George splashed harder as Harry tried to clean around his fingers, emitting another sternly babbled “Ba!”

Harry's shoulders slumped as he dipped the flannel in the water again and squeezed it out before extending it to Louis, who had pulled off his own hoodie before kneeling down, in the hope that his trackie bottoms might escape George's wrath. He usually got off more lightly than Harry did at bathtime, but that was mostly because Harry just encouraged George to mess about in the first place, the benefits of which he was reaping now.

Louis shook his head with wry amusement. “Still hasn't forgiven you for the nail clippers incident, I see.”

Harry looked decidedly less amused, a scowl forming. “How was I meant to know he wouldn't like Sebastian the crab singing about how we keep our nails clean?”

Louis took the cloth and dabbed expertly around George's fingers and toes before moving to the backs of his ears. “It was less the song and more you managing to nip yourself and yelping that startled him, as you well know.” Louis grinned as Harry held up the water jug to pour softly over the back of George's head, their routine well established by now. “RIP crab clippers. Gone and hopefully forgotten very soon.”

Harry muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like _object permanence._ Louis just laughed and pushed the inbuilt tile on the wall to dispense the baby shampoo into his hand, before working up a small lather in George's already curling damp hair.

Louis made a couple of shapes with said hair for his own amusement, a tickly George splashing some more when he reached his neck, then held him steady as Harry rinsed off the soap. Louis grabbed the baby towel off the rail and scooped George into his arms. He left his still sulking husband to rinse out the bathtub and carried George over to his changing table in his bedroom to begin drying him off. By the time Harry appeared, he was securing George into his night time nappy and fishing one handed for a vest in the drawers below. Harry took over and grabbed the vest and requisite babygrow along with some baby oil, while Louis carted George behind him into the quiet warmth of their own bedroom.

Louis settled George on the bed, a soft baby sheet laid out beneath him, one of his toes going into his mouth almost immediately. Louis shook his head with a wry grin, “At least they're clean mate, s'all I can say.”

He glanced up from switching on some soothing background music and noticed Harry tugging at his inevitably damp singlet with a frown on his face as he stood near the mirror. Louis caught his eye in the glass. “You alright?”

Harry nodded glumly. “Yeah..just..less chips maybe.” He shrugged and pulled off the singlet, throwing it into the laundry hamper in the corner before pulling on a light hoodie that was lying on a chair nearby, pushing up the sleeves as he sat on the corner of the bed.

Louis' mouth tightened a notch, but he didn't comment further and just held up the baby oil with one hand while he caught George's kicking feet in another. “Left side?”

Harry finally granted him a smile as he held out his hand for some oil to warm on his hands, “As always.”

They worked in tandem to softly massage George's legs before moving up to his arms. Louis smiled himself as George settled contentedly as he usually did. “I swear baby massage is the only time when he's not on the move, or wriggling out of our hands these days,” his low tone pure _this baby is quiet right now let's not fuck it up._

Harry gave a nod of assent, his tone a match for Louis'. “Baby massage always saving the day; when he has a cold, or he's grumpy, or he won't sleep...or the T word.”

Louis shuddered. “Don't even joke.”

Harry just smiled as he smoothed some oil down George's sides and tummy while Louis massaged his feet and hands. They'd discovered pretty quickly that Louis went to pieces when George was teething, which was going to make it interesting for the next few months. When George's first tooth had finally popped through last month no one had been more relieved than a frazzled Louis to see it. Harry had somehow figured out the knack for soothing him on those nights. George somehow seemed to pick up on Louis' tension, but then Louis was better that one horrible week when they'd all gotten a tummy bug, while Harry could barely make it through an hour of nappies and baby puke without crumbling, let alone a day. He supposed they did have their different strengths. Even if nail clipping wasn't one of his own right now.

Louis gently moved George to sit up so he could rub some oil onto his back. “Alright buddy, up you go. Nearly done and we'll get your bottle, yeah?”

George looked at them both sleepy eyed. “Ba?”

“Bottle,” Harry affirmed

“Ba!” George replied around a gummy one toothed smile, looking slightly dazed but happy about it nonetheless

Harry and Louis both laughed. Louis grabbed the vest and popped it over George's head, snapping the poppers shut over the nappy and then making short work of getting his feet into the babygrow before George could even think about wriggling again. “High on oxytocin, aren't you bubba? Living the life. Bath and massage and bottle. Easy times.”

Harry wiped his hands and then slid the last few poppers into place before lifting George into his arms, rocking him slightly and letting him play with one of his fingers, while Louis cleared the oil and baby blanket aside to be put away later.

“Hang on,” Louis called softly as he began to move towards the door to head downstairs. He looked up just as Louis snapped a picture of them both with his phone. Louis smiled. “New lockscreen. Not that I need one with the twenty or so pictures you send me of him a day, but still.”

“You love it.” Harry grinned as he made his way down the hall and staircase, George deciding that his Daddy's knuckle might be nice to chew on just now.

Louis tapped Harry lightly on the arse as they reached the kitchen, making his way to the fridge for a baby bottle to warm up. “I love you both, and I appreciate you documenting everything he does love, but you know, just maybe I don't quite need thirty-seven frames of him sleeping in the same position.”

“Shots.”

“Whatever.” Louis grinned as he placed the bottle in to warm and gave his husband a wink. “Fifteen is fine.”

Harry laughed even as he flipped him the finger. A sight within itself as he held George to his shoulder with his other arm, where said child had decided gnawing on the string tie of his hoodie was the best use of his singular tooth. He watched Harry admonish him with a soft _no_ , and tested the milk to see if it was ready. He might be tired, as they so often were these days, but it was always so, so worth it 

*

Some time later one baby fed (by Harry) and winded (by Louis-if letting him burp of his own accord and then booping his nose counted as winding these days) and settled in his cot (both, although technically Louis was settling him while Harry couldn't resist grabbing his camera and snapping off a few more shots of him asleep sans flash, while Louis made no attempt not to laugh in a muffled fashion as he went).

By the time Louis made it out of his shower Harry was sitting hunched over his touchscreen, flipping through the images he'd taken that day, discarding some and cropping others for more work later as he went. He'd dealt with some pressing emails and scheduled some calls for tomorrow. Unofficial paternity leave or not, time waited for no man, or Dad, and certainly not on Harry Styles.

Louis watched him for a moment, sitting all curled up, brow furrowed, from the door of their bathroom before coming to a decision. He tossed the towel he'd been rubbing over his hair at Harry's head and stood there, naked as the day he was born, no shame, all smile.

Harry's curly head emerged from the folds of Egyptian cotton with a muttered, “The fuck?”

Louis shrugged a shoulder, smirk in place. “You asking?”

Harry set the towel aside and stared at him all the while as Louis ambled over and extended a hand. “IPad down and top off please. Chop chop.”

Harry blinked. “I appreciate the effort Lou, but I'm just tired tonight.”

Louis inclined his head slightly and placed his fingers over Harry's longer ones stroking softly. “I know, hun, but just humour me for a minute, yeah?” He wasn't above blinking those eyelashes at a grumpy around the edges husband who needed it. “Please?”

Harry stared at him for a minute then acquiesced with a quiet shrug, setting the iPad aside and pulling off his hoodie, leaving him in just his boxers. Louis nudged him over more to the centre of the bed until he was lying down and made short work of straddling him. “Stay.”

Harry's eyebrows raised, mouth pouty. “Biddable, am I?”

Louis just winked his voice laced with a lascivious smirk. “I am going to make you feel so good.” He leaned into Harry's chest, a brush of skin before it was gone again, as he reached for the bedside drawer and extracted a mix of essential oils. “Ta dah!”

Harry's response was droll. “You a magician now?”

Louis poured some oil liberally into his hands and smoothed it onto waiting biceps before moving across Harry's chest in soft but firm sweeps. “Dunno. Am I?” He mocked Harry's tone.

Harry just rolled his eyes but not before Louis caught the gleam of affection there. He made a soft sound of restrained pleasure as Louis drew his thumb across a tense spot above his collarbone. “Maybe.”

Louis mouth kicked up at the corner as he added some more oil to his hands, making slow but steady progress down the tension in Harry's arms, before sliding down a notch until he was settled between his favourite pair of thighs, his fingers drawing circles in places of memories past. He slid Harry's boxers down as he went. “So, tell me what's really up with you today.” He shook a finger before Harry could open his mouth. “And don't say your cock, because that's clearly a lie right now, naked and glorious as I am.” A pout of his own then. “And yeah, I am a little bit offended. But, anyway...” He gestured vaguely. “Talk.”

Harry sighed and then jerked as Louis nipped his thigh smartly. “Oow! Jesus, fuck off, Louis.” He shifted slightly as Louis just gripped his knees then continued his path down his calves. “You trying to bruise me or what?”

“Or what. Speak, or I'll tickle ya an' all.”

A sigh of exasperation. Then silence. Louis waited, thumbs trailing over toes and slender arches.

Harry exhaled with a wiggle of his toes. “It's just the studio fucking about with the dates again. Pre-production is getting wrapped earlier than expected so they see 'No reason not to move production forward, Mr Styles',” he gestured with some decidedly violent bunny ears. “Like fucking excuse me for hiring a competent production team you wankers, doesn't mean you can order me when to be on set when I told them no sooner than end of August. They can fuck off.”

Louis nodded calmly, refraining from pointing out that they kinda could a little, given that they'd put up the finance for the movie, but that was a discussion for another time. His hands bracketed around each of Harry's ankles respectively, rubbing thoughtfully with his thumbs as he mused for a moment. He paused and shifted forward on his knees a little his hands coming to rest on Harry's knees. “When do they want you on?”

“End of June. Apparently everyone else is 'willing to accommodate the schedule change, _Harry._ ',” the bunny ears again, “He's an obnoxious bastard.”

“And why'd you agree to work with him again?”

Harry twitched slightly as Louis' fingers found the sensitive spot at the back of his left knee. Louis raised his eyebrows mutely and ran his fingers over the spot again.

Harry scowled. “Because he's a talented, obnoxious bastard who I actually quite like when he's not being an annoying fucker.” He held up a finger when Louis made to speak again. “But I don't care. I'm not missing our child's first birthday for anyone. Contract or not.”

Louis nodded, lips pursed for a moment. “Hmmm. How about we compromise and you tell them end of July with room to make up the extra week or so on the back end? You'll still be here for his birthday party, then maybe request if they can do the Oxford shoot first? Closer to home for a bit. And sure if not the principal stuff is only in Ireland before the US bit, so we'll manage.”

Harry's brow furrowed, considering. “Maybe. I just...I dunno if I'm ready to leave him yet is all. I've liked us being home these past few months. Like really home for a long time.” He gave what passed for a shrug when one was lying down. “Just us and him, you know?”

Louis smiled softly, edging forward until he could crawl up and lean in to rest his arms comfortably on Harry's sternum, his chin settled on his forearms. “I know, love. Me too. But we do have to introduce him to our lives at some point, and it's only a difference of a few weeks earlier than we planned, really. Less than a month if you charm them into an end of July start.” He tickled a rib idly even as Harry shifted away from his questing fingers. “Which you will.”

Harry looked only slightly less mutinous. “Will I?”

Louis pressed a kiss to the tip of the feathered wing nearest him.“Yeah. You will.”

He felt Harry's grin even before he saw it and considered it a job well done. He glanced back up, fingers trailing across tattoos of times past. “And if there's something can't be done then we'll work around, make it work, same as we always do. George and I'll come with you for a bit if need be.” His mouth quirked into a grin. “He's only small. How much room can he take up, eh? We got a bear or two and some clothes into that bag of yours, I'm sure we can fit in one tiny baby.”

Harry snickered despite himself. “Shut up. That's our child you're talking about smuggling through customs.”

Louis didn't miss a beat. “Okay new plan. We dress him up as the bear and no one knows its him and we just carry him on through.” He winked. “Simples.”

Harry guffawed. “Stopppp.” A small giggle. “Fuck, can you imagine? People would be freaking out.”

“Ahhh fuck! It's alive! Investigate!” Louis grinned. “Our own Ted..hopefully minus the potty mouth.”

Harry snorted out another laugh then slapped a hand over his mouth, the other gripping one of Louis' thighs. His muffled “Shhh,” only serving to make Louis laugh out loud himself.

Harry shook his head. “Honestly, shhhh you. We'll wake him up and we've only just gotten him sleeping through the night again.”

Louis shook his own head in response. “I cannot fucking wait until they invent proper in house soundproofing and we're just using the monitors and the cams and not creeping about like the bleeding Grinch on Christmas Eve in our own bloody house.”

Harry snorted again gasping out a laugh. Louis just grinned as Harry slapped his thigh. “Stop it you little shit. You fucking did that on purpose!”

Louis stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth slightly, his palms spread over Harry's shoulders, eyes innocent. “Dunno what you mean, Styles.”

Harry squeezed his thigh smartly, both hands sliding up to settle on his irascible husband's waist. “Yeah, you do, _Tommo._ You're a dickhead.”

“A dickhead that you married.”

“True, true.”

“For better, for worse...”

Harry's finger trailed over the curve of Louis' hip. “Mmmhmm. For richer, for poorer...mostly richer to be fair.”

Louis pressed a kiss to Harry's neck. “In dickhead and in health...”

Harry smothered the inevitable laugh by pressing his mouth into Louis' shoulder as his own shoulders shook with barely suppressed mirth. Louis nuzzled him softly, eyes gleaming as he caught his gaze again.

Harry ran a hand up the aforementioned dickhead's shoulder, and reached for his phone with the other, head tilted musing. “I wonder is it too late to call Alan about a divorce...”

He dodged Louis' poke to the ribs but was unable to avoid the nip to the shoulder as Louis scraped him with his teeth. “Oi, _Styles._ Forget the whole important bit did ya? It says til death.” He quirked a brow as he held up his left hand where his wedding ring rested. “I have a contract and this one you're sticking to. Your charm doesn't work on me, boyo.”

Harry let out a contented sigh followed by a yawn. “If I wasn't so knackered I'd remind you what a lie that was.”

Louis just smiled against his skin. “Mmmm.” He shifted and grabbed Harry's phone himself, snapping a picture of them both, one that clearly said _naked and relaxed._ Harry set it to his wallpaper the next day and said no more about it.

_*_

It was an ordinary Monday.

Another week had rolled by in a haze of endless nappies, charming phone calls, and chips that were now relegated to Monday nights only at Harry's request. If Louis had given him a quick blow job or two where he lingered in pressing soft kisses and lovebites to his tummy and love handles, which meant that they hadn't quite been excised entirely just yet, then that was his prerogative. Harry reckoned running an extra mile in the mornings was worth it.

George had spent a crochety night which threatened the existence of another tooth to come in the not too distant future, and if he was now surprisingly bright eyed after they found a herb based teething ring that worked it's magic for now, then they could take feeling like walking zombies themselves for a little while.

So here they were once again. Harry with his camera round his neck, checking his phone was charging on the centre of the kitchen island while Louis shuffled some chips into a Pyrex bowl to keep warm before he began work on the gravy.

“Chill, love.”

Harry looked up from where he was tapping to delete some images, before shifting back to remove the lens gap on his Leica. “”Yeah I just want-”

Louis rolled his eyes. “To be sure you're ready, I know, but like you barely let it drop below 94% before you panic. And my phone is charged, before you ask. And you have your camera. You won't miss it.”

“You don't know that.”

“It's still early I think, honestly. I mean Xara didn't walk til eleven months.”

Harry didn't look convinced. “Yeah but Xara didn't crawl half as fast as he does.”

Louis shrugged. “And now she's already reading books for five year olds aged two. Pretty advanced for her age so..”

Harry glanced at the monitor. George was sat playing on his playmat just where he'd left him. He was trying to chew one of his wooden blocks and seemed to have no problem with the anti-chew taste they were supposed to have.

Louis inclined his head at where he could see him through the archway. “I feel like he's gonna chew his way through anything he gets his hands on lately. Maybe we should try plastic ones. Try him with the teething ring again after dinner.”

Harry nodded as he pulled George's high chair from the table, fiddling with the straps and loosening them a little while Louis stirred at the thickening gravy. He finally lifted the strap over his head and sat his camera aside before heading to the fridge to get out the food he'd prepared for George already. One experience of trying to feed a curious baby had him acknowledging that mashed carrot covered hands and very expensive cameras within reaching distance weren't the best mix in the world. He'd just sat the baby bowl down on the table and glanced up when his mouth fell open. It was a moment before he recollected how to speak, his hand involuntarily reaching for the camera he'd set down moments ago. He never took his eyes off the baby. Then he stood stock still, his voice a loud whisper.

“Louis.”

Louis doesn't react, caught up in stirring the gravy as he is, and Harry feels like his voice has gone, because their baby, their George, isn’t sitting on the playmat anymore, he's standing in the archway, face once more behind the gate, a look on his little face as if to say, 'Well of course I can walk. Do stop going on about it.'

And Harry doesn’t know why he can’t move (or why he's whispering, wtf), but he hisses at his husband again, or more accurately mumbles something resembling words. He thinks.

“Lou..s'walking...I saw him walk..he's..he's-”

There's a clatter as Louis drops the spoon into the gravy and whirls around, and for a second they're both frozen in place just staring, because OH MY GOD THEY HAVE A BABY AND HE CAN WALK AND EVERYTHING.

Like they think they're doing okay as parents so far, but it's all new and sometimes they still feel a bit like someone handed them this perfect little human in the mistaken belief that they were proper, real adults who wouldn't completely mess everything up the second they were left alone with him. And now he's doing the thing and they're just standing there like a right pair of muppets. Oh, God, they're terrible parents.

And then Louis springs into action, hitting the remote button so the gate slides open, and he softly takes the camera from Harry's fingers, which are still locked around the strap, and ever so quietly he lowers himself to the ground and starts snapping away, and George seems to like the attention because he's reaching out towards the camera as he wobbles forward another step in hope of getting his hands on the lens. Louis tilts the camera just so and murmurs, “Dada and Daddy love you so much. Clever boy,” and he gets that picture that becomes one of Harry's favourites, one that he carries a copy around with him everywhere (it's perfect, not just because it's a snapshot of their little boy growing up, but because Louis took it). And it's possible that Louis becomes ever so slightly obnoxious for a while, sending the picture to everyone they know (because did you know our George is only nine months and he's already walking? Yeah. I know. Great innit? Hang on, I have a picture on me phone...)

But right now in the moment, hands tight around the camera, Louis doesn't even realise he's crying a bit until he feels Harry's hand on his back as he kneels down beside him, and they're both staring at George as he takes another step towards them both, and then wobbles again ever so slightly before landing on his bum with a little sigh. And they try and cajole him to walk again (Harry behind the lens this time) but he won't, stubborn little sod. He just wants the camera, and yes he's going to wail loudly when Harry won't let him have it and when he tries to distract him instead (and maybe he feels like the worst father in the world, but they have to teach him he can't have everything he wants, don't they?) and Louis' making faces at George, which usually does a decent job of calming him down (but not tonight sadly), before he suddenly stops and blurts out, “Fuck. The gravy!”

And Harry's blinking before he's saying, “Bollocks,” in response and then there's a pause before he adds, “Don't swear,” and Louis is nodding muttering, “Shit....sorry.....wait.”

And then they're both dissolving into giggles as Harry hauls himself up, setting the camera aside, as he rushes over to switch off the heat under the (now ruined) gravy, while Louis settles a still crochety but now yawning George against his hip as he stands. Because yeah, maybe they're still fucking some things up, but they'll figure it out, and their baby is happy most of the time isn't he (when he's not giving them shit for not letting him play with a thousand pound camera...and it doesn't really count if he's under one does it....does it?) And then Harry is frowning. Okay maybe he's gonna have to ring his mum again and check (and if it's the hundredth odd call he's made this year asking something or other, then that's neither here nor there) and bloody hell George is walking already...oh shit...now they're really fucked.

But that's another story.

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Reblog on Tumblr](http://andyouknowitis.tumblr.com/post/121307270022/things-there-might-be-pictures-of)
> 
> A couple of things to note:
> 
> 1) The infamous crab clippers refer to a pair of baby nail clippers fashioned to somewhat resemble Sebastian the crab from _The Little Mermaid_ , one of the films they've been watching with George as he loves the songs. So here's Harry thinking a singing crab will help with those nail clipping nerves. It might have worked. George does indeed love Sebastian. So yeah maybe. But then Harry happened. Cue crabby baby. 
> 
> 2) Oxytocin, for those that don't know, is the cuddle/hug hormone. Baby massage is a commonly used baby bonding method that helps the baby with their sleeping and feeding, and generally helps them feel happy and content. As we see here it's very effective with George in soothing him, and helping the three of them connect and bond. Stress free babies are the best apparently. Who knew? Likewise, it works very well on stressed out spouses too, as we see Louis utilising to great effect on aforementioned spouse. No crabby Harry. Happy all round. 
> 
> 3) The obnoxious fucker of an annoying bastard is Michael Fassbender, who is directing and exec producing a Seamus Heaney biopic starring none other than Harry himself. His casting caused somewhat of an outcry because he's a) too tall and b) too English. Nonetheless, Michael fought for him and handled the studio stuff on this project so Harry could take his paternity leave in relative peace. Harry is getting dialect coaching from Daniel Day Lewis, who remains the only living non-Irish actor to have ever successfully managed a convincing Irish accent. Now, Harry is a shade too tall, there's no denying it, but people forget he has a husband who's 5"9. He can handle this. Will Harry win that 2026 Best Actor Oscar? Who knows, mate? Who knows?
> 
> *
> 
> Thank you, as ever, for taking the time to read and give feedback. Very much appreciated. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, concrit & gifts related to llamas are welcome ;)


End file.
